TRWD35

My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
35

It wasn’t long before Lee, Winston at his heels, returned to the Control Room. I was heartened that Lee wasn’t holding on to Joe’s arm though he was using his cane.
Lee hadn’t removed his sweater, as I had, and he hadn’t done a good job drying his hair, if he’d even tried to, as it still looked damp and curly. So I wasn’t quite sure if it was Lee or his faithful hound that smelled like wet dog.
All right, a bulldog is not technically a hound but you get my drift, even if my journals are only for me to review now and in the distant future, and perhaps for my children and grandchildren, once I’ve gone to my reward, God wiling, upstairs instead of down.
Joe joined Jiggs, the women, and me in the nose. Lee bade Winston to ‘sit’ and ‘stay’ by the plot table while he joined Chip in checking the instruments.

Well,” Mrs. C. was saying, holding a pencil drawing that she had told Jiggs and me that Lee had given her the night before, “I think Lee should have stuck with gemstones for his little gifts.”
“I don’t know,” Emmie said, “I think the more simple the broach, the more elegant.”
“Elegant?” Edith complained over her scotch, “It’s a wire frame of the Loch Ness Monster and the kelpie! Ridiculous. Whenever is the queen of England going to wear such a thing?”
“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” Mrs. C. said. “What do you think, Harriman?” she added, handing me the drawing. Indeed simple, it was a sketch of the Loch Ness Monster, her maternal fin around the kelpie’s body.
“Seems fine to me.”
“But surely…” Edith began to complain, interrupted by the klaxon which hardly made me jump at all, but I did see the women hold on to their chairs.
“Dive, dive, dive!” Chip ordered.
It was a gentle horizontal dive, as our ballast tanks took in the same peaty water they’d pumped out for Lee’s little show earlier. At Ninety feet stopped her descent and Seaview made a ninety degree turn and proceeded at a slow pace toward the Boley Fault. It was a short trip and then we stopped.
“Just think,” Jiggs said, “what you can all tell your children and grandchildren about sailing through the fault.”
“What grandchildren?” Mrs. C. quipped, “By the time Lee performs his husbandly duty with a new wife, if he can even find one to put up with his career, I’ll be in my grave.”
“Don’t be so old fashioned,” Edith slurred. “Doesn’t have to be a wife. Or even a girlfriend. Bound to be thousands of girls just itching to have his babies. He could become a billionaire from what he could charge for his services.”
“That’s disgusting!” Mrs. C. said, outraged.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, Lee could simply make a deposit into a sperm bank for In Vitro fertilization with egg donors.”
“Eeeeyooo!”
“But if that offends you, “Edith hiccupped again, “you could have Lee cloned from his DNA.”
“Oh gawd, that’s even worse! You could rot in hell for all that kind of talk! Furthermore….”

“What’s the problem over here?” Lee interrupted, coming over.
“Your ‘sister’ has a filthy mind!” Mrs. C. said. “And I don’t appreciate Harry not doing anything about it. Letting her talk like that!”
“I was only trying to be helpful,” Edith said, “And she started it. Going on and on about you not giving her any grand babies. I simply explained options for getting the grandchildren she wants.”
“Options?” Mrs. C. said, “she was spouting on about a…a…oh God, I can’t even say it.”
“I told her,” Edit told Lee with a smirk, “that you only had to donate to sperm bank or have yourself cloned and she got all holier than though with me.”
“I told you, you’ll rot in hell for that kind of thinking!” Mrs. C. shouted.
“Who made you God’s spokesman!”
“It’s not natural, it’s….”
“Hold it, both of you,” Lee said. “This isn’t the time or place. Mom, you know I’d never do either of those things. Edith, know you were only trying to explain procreation options but I don’t want any more talk about it between you two. I have enough to worry about without being distracted by any cat fights. Now get below to the brig and strap in. Jiggs, please accompany and stay with them. The trip back through is going to be rather nasty.”
“I don’t understand, Lee,” I said.
“Our instruments show that the opposing currents in the fault may be five times stronger than the ones previously.”
“Meaning,” Jiggs asked, “you’ll scratch the paint worse than Sparks and Harry did?” “Lee can scratch the paint as badly as he wants,” I replied before Lee could. “Emmie, you know I’d like to join you but…”
“I know, I know. Can we at least watch on the monitor?”
Lee hesitated, then nodded. “I wouldn’t advise it, but since we’ll be transmitting all cam feeds to the institute and to the International Geophysical Society computers, I won’t forbid it. No internet or calls out, though. We need to keep our communications unencumbered.”
“Makes sense,” Emmie said as she rose.
“I don’t think so,” Edith said as she poured out another scotch and gulped it down. “If your stupid radio can do all that I don’t see how a little internet can interfere.”
“It’s preventative,” I said, “and I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Damn right. If I wanted a roller coaster ride, I’d have gone to Disneyland.”

“Attention all hands,” Lee said into the intercom, “this is the captain. We’ll be making our deep dive in about thirty minutes. Once we do, all damage control parties will be on stand-by. All hands and guests will report arrival to assigned stations. Once we enter the fault, there will be no calls or internet, no unnecessary walking. Chief Sharkey, report when your teams have completed securing all loose and mobile equipment aboard.”
“Aye, sir,” Sharkey replied over the PA.
“Joe,” Lee told him, “take Winston back to my cabin, put him and Missy into their carriers and secure those to the deck clamps in the closet. Put one of my socks in sniffing distance. It should make them feel better. Then report back here to join Sparks in the Radio Shack.”
“Right, bro,” Joe said but had to scoop up the reluctant Winston who wanted to stay within visual range of Lee.
“I’d really like to stay here with you, Harry,” Emily said.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” I said, giving her a kiss. “Now, all of you, get going…Lee, where do you want me?”
“With Ski at sonar. I had the previous topographical data installed for comparison on the side sonar unit But I might call on you for extra help at the conn, since you had it in the fault before.”
“Sparks did most of it.”
“Well, I might call on him too…it’s going to be a rough ride. Chip and I need everyone.”
“Speaking of Chip, what about Mallie and Kitten Nessie?”
“He already secured them…if you want any coffee, now’s the time. Report back in fifteen minutes.”

And so I headed to the Wardroom, but found it too busy with one of Sharkey’s teams staking the chairs and tables to the bulkhead and deck clamps. The counter was cleared of anything that wasn’t bolted in. Including the coffee makers. So I headed through the companionways and decks to the brig.
Everyone was secure, and the monitor just outside the ‘cage’ was tuned to four split screens from the exterior cams.
“Attention all hands,” Chip said over the PA. “All departments, report your readiness.”
Jiggs was one of the first to report that he and the ladies were secure. I nodded in satisfaction and headed back to the Observation Nose.
It looked odd, as it was empty now of the conference table, chairs, loungers and the side board’s top was bare.
I took my seat next to Ski, and pulled on my headset, and synced my screen to his.
The minutes dragged by as O’Brien checked off the reporting departments as secure.
“All systems nominal,” Chip told Lee.
Lee looked around at all the manned stations.
“Take her down,” Lee ordered.
“Dive, Dive, Dive!” Chip ordered and the klaxon rang out and we began our descent into the abyss. Lee had ordered the viewport’s crash plates closed, so I had to satisfy myself sideways glances at the monitor, unfortunately a bit too distant down the Control Room to see much. I could, however, see the iridescent creatures glowing against the blackness.
It took awhile and I was proud of my boys not showing any sign of apprehension. I hoped I wasn’t showing how nervous I was and wished I’d peed before taking my station.
“We’re at the entrance coordinates,” O’Brien reported.
“Very well,” Chip said. “Level off.”
Lee took a moment to check more instruments and a computer print-out with Chip while Sparks reported the cams linked to the institute and geophysical society.
“We’re going in,” Lee said into the mike, “Ahead slow.”
Seaview began ever so slowly to proceed. As much as I wanted to try to look at what I could from the monitor of the illuminated Disneyesque views, I was too busy doing my job, increasingly difficult, as the battling currents swept us up, down, forwards, and even backwards. Lee, Chip, and O’Brien were busy with ordering a lot of adjustments to the helm, ballast, engines, etc. while trying to hang on to various hand holds and safety bars. Still, occasionally they lost their grips and were flung into various pieces of equipment and consoles, sometimes even to the deck.
Several times we also heard both our port and starboard hull scrape against the rocky walls, sounding like fingernails against a blackboard. Even the Conning Tower got dented.
I wondered how much the refit was going to cost.
“Almost through!” Lee finally shouted into the mike for the PA, giving everyone a slight bit of encouragement.
“Skipper?” Sparks called out, “Mr. Mr. Ames said you’d do anything to get Seaview a new paint job.”
“Acknowledged and tell him very funny.”
“Aye, sir.”
Lee’s ‘almost through’ was taking a long time and the battling currents actually put us into an almost vertical lunge against the ancient stalactites above us then plunging us into a vertical dive until we managed to level off.
“Almost through,” Lee said again.
I wasn’t the only one not to believe it, but his words did seem to help my heart rate to settle down.
I knew the mop and bucket brigades were going to be busy from all the vomit I was sure was all over the boat. Not too much in the Control Room, but there was some, though to a man, all had remained at the stations. Only once did one of the helmsmen require assistance as he threw up.
Was it my imagination, or was Seaview reaching the end of her roller coaster ride?
“Almost out,” Lee said again, as the crew groaned. “Really,” he added. This time, the warring currents really did seem to abate.
“We’re out,” Lee added. “Well done, everyone. Damage Control, report. Chip? Surface when clear, then come to a full stop to send out inspection teams and divers.”
Sparks tuned the monitor to the BBC on one of the split screens….

“…Seaview,” the anchor was saying, “has reported that the expedition to follow Nessie and Rascal has been turned over to the Cousteau Society and all data has been sent via fax to it. In the interim, the protection of the creatures of Loch Ness has been assigned to the Scottish Royal ASPCA and the International Geographical Society.”
“…We also have breaking news from the Nelson Crane Institute of Marine Research that Seaview has just completed passing through the dangerous Boley Fault and will be surfacing soon. Videos of the dangerous trek have been recorded from the Seaview’s exterior cameras, and shared with both the institute and the International Geophysical Society, both of which will be making the videos available.”
“Periscope depth,” Lee ordered.
It seemed forever to rise to ninety feet, and Lee took the time to go around the Control Room to congratulate his crew again.
I could actually feel their reactions to their skipper. Loyalty was a given. It was the sense of utter devotion to him that washed through the Control Room.
Then he came to Ski and me.
“Great job, you two. Also glad you caught some of those changes to the topography from last time. I guess the currents are so bad that they keep changing things. Harry, once we surface, would you like to come topside with me?”
“Delighted, but first I’d like to go check on Emmie.” I didn’t mention that I wanted to pee before I had an accident, and to see if Will had any stomach medicine left. No doubt the crewmen not on duty might need some antacids as well.
“Of course. Dismissed from sonar,” he added formally, but with a grin that was in total opposition to it.

Wearily I headed aft, reaching my cabin just in time. I was in the head when Emmie entered and flopped down on the bunk groaning.
“Oh gawd, Harry. Don’t me do anything like that again. And hurry up in there.”
I did, and soon after when she’d visited the facilities as wel, we embraced and sat on the bunk.
“I promise never to put you through that again,” I said. “Me neither for that matter. I need to go to Sick Bay for something to settle my stomach before Lee has me to go topside with him. You?”
“Just bring it down here.”
There were two lines in front of Sick Bay. One, for minor bumps and bruises the other, longer line, for tummy upset. Frank divided that one, into ‘active’ trouble for crew still needing barf bags, and those of us who could simply use an oral quickly dissolving antacid.
I could have received mine simply for the fact that rank has its privileges but I waited my turn, putting my crew first. Jiggs joined me with Edith, handkerchief over her face, and Mrs. C. at his side.
Frank took one look at Edith and took her into Sick Bay before he could hand her a barf bag.
“She had it bad,” Mrs. C. said. “I was a bit queasy but at least it wasn’t augmented by booze. How’s Lee?”
“He’s fine. A few bumps and bruises, but he actually seems invigorated. We’re headed to periscope depth. They need to check things out before surfacing.”
“Oh gawd, I hope it’s soon. I need some fresh air piped down.”
The wait wasn’t that long for the antacid and soon we three headed to the Observation Nose where none of the chairs had been returned.
“It’ll be awhile, Mom,” Lee said, and gave her a kiss. “You okay?”
“I want some fresh air as soon as possible, but yes, I’m okay.”
“How’s Edith?”
“Being treated for tummy trouble, and bit worse for wear.”
“Periscope depth, Captain,” Chip called out.
“Prepare to surface.”
Lee unlocked two of the stools under the plot table and moved them against the sideboard.
“Mom, Emily…I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the loungers to be returned. Sorry there’s not a seat for you yet, Jiggs.”
“No problem…I’m impressed that you’re not using your cane.”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to. By the way, we can’t open the crash doors until we conclude checking for pin leaks. But I can turn on the monitor in here. I think Drew will be broadcasting our trip in a few minutes.”
“For free?” Mrs. C. asked as Lee helped her to the stool to sit down.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, Edith said that you could charge for the videos.”
Lee looked surprised.
“It might have been a good idea, son,” I said. “But what’s done is done.”
“Sorry,” Lee signed.
“Maybe turn the videos into DVD’s?” Jiggs suggested.
“No,” I said. “If the cam videos have been issued to all broadcasters, it’s public domain now.”
“I should have realized,” Lee sighed. “Guess I’m not cut out to be a co-CEO.”
“You are too. You’ve just been away from it for awhile, first at the White House then back aboard…you’ll get that business sense soon.”
“Well, maybe. Maybe not,” he said and turned on the monitor, calling out to Sparks to tune to the Institute, and checked his watch. “Coming on.”
The exterior shot of the institute gate showed an active business. Then it dissolved to an interior shot of my outer office. On the sofa were Ames and Angie.
“…This is the Nelson Crane Institute of Marine Research, and I’m Angie McPherson, personal assistant to Admiral Harriman Nelson.”
“…And I’m Lt. Cmdr. Drew Ames, personal assistant to Captain Nelson-Crane. We’ve just been sent Seaview’s exterior video camera recordings of her progress through the Boley Fault between Loch Ness, and the River Ness of Scotland.”
“…This is raw footage,” Angie said, “and we apologize in advance for any confusion between the three streaming videos shown on your TV screens. But we think you’ll be fascinated by the ancient cavern believed to have been flooded eons ago between Loch Ness and the River Ness.”
“…Fasten your seatbelts,” Ames said, “for a wild ride.”
And so we were treated to a three way screen, in sync of our traverse. I had no choice to but to wish Lee had spoken with me prior to releasing the damn videos to the public venue instead of just to the institute and geophysical society. At least we’d have been able to charge for it.
By the time the video’s ended, Seaview was at periscope depth and Lee was making a visual check of the river’s surface while Chip was checking instruments.
“…We hope,” Angie was saying, “that you enjoyed this glimpse of Seaview’s cruise through the fault, and we can tell you that the sub is at periscope depth in the River Ness, and will soon surface.”
“…We have been informed,” Ames said, “that our submarine has sustained some damage and the Captain will be sending out divers for close personal inspections before or after she surfaces. From the Nelson-Crane Institute of Marine Research, good day.”

“Mr. Morton, surface,” Lee ordered.
“Aye sir. Surface, surface!”
The klaxon sounded, a dive team was ordered out, and Sparks connected to the BBC and one screen with ‘Breaking News’ on the scroll bar.

“…that disturbance in the water could be…yes, it’s the famous submarine broaching the surface. Our helicopters are moving in closer. We can’t see anyone in the badly Conning Tower though several divers are, with various instruments, checking all around the sub. The famous windows are covered with metal plates…possibly a precaution, possibly damaged…”
“O’Brien?” Lee called out, “you have the conn. Chip, Harry, let’s go topside.”
“And remember, Lee,” Chip warned, “we may be live. No picking our nose or anything like that.”
“Gee, thanks, Mother.”
“Boys, behave,” I said, and pulled out a parka from under the plot table as they did.
Lee let Chip climb up first and pop the hatch to emerge first, then had me precede him while he took a call from the White House.
Finally Lee emerged, his black eyepatch gave his identity away easily to the crowds lining both sides of the river. He waved to both but suddenly reached up to one of his scalp patches, revealing blood on his hand. Chip took a look and motioned the chopper to move off. As it did so we could see the wash from the rotors had loosened all of them
Chip ordered Lee to Sick Bay, ‘no argument’ to fix the patches to stop them from dripping all over his nice clean decks.
Lee, disappointed for the interruption, complied. I followed him back into the Control Room where Will was panting, and opening up his kit, Mrs. C., Emmie, and Jiggs waiting as well.
As Will began to examine Lee, placing a thick towel around his neck once he’d removed his parka, I noticed that the BBC was still playing on the monitor…
“…Apparently the submarine is not the only thing damaged, though it looks like it was our helicopter that caused the captain’s scalp patches to come loose. We will, of course, reimburse the medical expenses to correct the problem and our helicopters have been informed to keep their distance.
“…In related news when the submarine arrives in Inverness, the Seaview will host Her Majesty the Queen for lunch. The precise date and time has yet to be released.”
“…In other news,” a new reporter began, “instead of submitting to the captain’s request to the protestors in the states to cease and desist their objections regarding the official reprimand against him by the president, only more protests have arisen. These were taped from in front of the White House…,”
“…Shame on the president! Shame on him,” a middle aged woman yelled. “And you can’t tell me that the captain’s ‘apology’ wasn’t forced!”
“…Captain Nelson-Crane for president!” someone in the crowd shouted.
“…And so the protests continue,” the anchor said. “Even the People’s Republic has been adamant that that the captain’s words about his reprimand proving there was no U.S. government involvement in his statements about their nation are ‘void’. However, the chairman has also said he is still open to a trade agreement and détente with the United States.”
“Oh gawd,” I said. “He just can’t win.”

Small boats on the river began to put toward Seaview, honking their horns. Chip used one of the waterproof intercom units on the outside of the dented Conning Tower, and ordered Sparks to return the salute. It wasn’t quite the klaxon, but the visitors took it as a greeting, not a warning.
“…It could be my imagination,” the anchor said, “but I think that bandaging under captain’s eyepatch wasn’t as thick as before. The bruises we saw were darker than when he gave his statement, and no doubt that facial laceration is going to leave a scar.”
“Nope,” Will said, “probably won’t and he sprayed the affected area of scalp, real and imitation, with an antiseptic and pain deadening agent, followed by a cleaning of the loose patch, and began to re-stitch it. Once done and patted with gauze, Will pulled out a surgical cap for Lee to wear. If he wanted to go back topside, that was.
And so Lee pulled on a new non blood stained parka, and went topside, me following.
Suddenly a mound of water formed to the starboard of Seaview’s prow, from which Nessie and Rascal emerged.
‘Nessie’ reached over the conning tower with her long neck and licked Lee on his right cheek. I knew Will would have a hissy fit. Lee gently patted her face, and she made a weird gurgling sound. Rascal was whinnying, apparently feeling left out. Lee gave Nessie a kiss on her face, (another hissy fit moment for Will) and climbed down the exterior of the Conning Tower to the deck, and got to his knees in order not to fall overboard reaching for Rascal.
Needless to say Rascal was ecstatic to finally make physical contact with his playmate from the viewports. The creature nuzzled him as it ‘tread water’ alongside Seaview.
This was just too mind boggling and try as I might, Rascal had nothing to do with me. It was Lee who was his playmate, not me.
Nessie made another noise in her throat and Rascal gave Lee one last nuzzle and swam to his ‘mother’. Lee just knelt there looking at his new friends. Both creatures ‘singing’ to him before they dove under.
Lee had a hard time getting back to his feet and Chip and I were quick to assist, supporting him under his arms. But Lee made no move to go below.
Suddenly a pod of dolphins emerged, always a sign of good fortune. But there was no bow wash for them to ride.
I decided to just let Lee enjoy the moment and headed back below while Chip climbed up the Conning Tower ladder and Joe emerged from the hatch to join Lee.
“How long is he going to be up there?” Will demanded of me as he watched the breaking news. “He needs that goo scrubbed off and his face and scalp disinfected again!”
“I don’t know. But I think he might want stay up there all the way to Inverness once we get underway.”
Will picked up a mike. “Captain, you get down here!”
“The creatures didn’t harm him,” Mrs. C. said.
“Lee?” I used the mike to the Conning Tower, “you’d better come down. Will’s turning purple again.”
No answer.
“Admiral?” Sparks called out. “CNN wants an interview about the creatures.”
“Tell them any interviews will have to wait until after we dock at Inverness.”
“Aye, sir. Oh, and the BBC wants to know what we’re going to serve the queen at the lunch she’s coming to.”
“How the hell should I know…but it’s a sure bet it won’t be fish. Just tell them the menu’s still under consideration.”

And so we’ll wait. First, for Lee to abide by my wishes, come below to placate Will, order us to start sailing down the river to Inverness, once he’s satisfied we won’t sink, and for me to rehash in my mind the characteristics of the creatures for the forthcoming interview.